


Maybe It's the Sound of Something Breaking Up Against Your Walls

by allmilhouse



Category: Barry (TV 2018)
Genre: Arguing with Himself, Bonding over Breakfast, Depression, Happy Ending, Kissing, Life Coach AU, M/M, Panic Attacks, Radical Mugs, Therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-08
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-07-18 04:35:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16110911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allmilhouse/pseuds/allmilhouse
Summary: Life Coach AU! Barry comes to L.A. and decides to stay and become an actor, but he's having trouble getting his life together. Enter helpful life coach Hank!





	1. The First Call

**Author's Note:**

> Oh boy. I was so excited as I started this- based off the tags, it might be the first life coach AU on ao3?? But the second I started editing, I was like, well this is bad. I'm so sorry. I know nothing about life coaches, or how they operate. Halfway through writing this I realized Barry needs like straight up therapy from a mental health professional, but I was committed to this already so shrug emoji 
> 
> Title from Decades by Matthew Good.

It started with a bus bench. The nondescript background a vibrant red, stealing focus from everything around it. No picture on it, just three simple words in blinding white- Need Help? Call: and a phone number listed.

Stuck in traffic, Barry Berkman stared at the words before he finally read them. _It hasn’t come to this,_ he thought. But traffic didn’t let up for minutes, and he stared the ad down, refusing to surrender. He began an imaginary argument in his head, a trick he learned overseas, to help psych himself up or talk himself down.

_God knows you need the help._

“You don’t even know what kind of help that is. It could be some cheesy sex line or something.”

_Doesn’t matter. You’ve been getting worse. At this point I’ll try anything._

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

_You cried in the shower again this morning._

“SHUT UP.”

_You need help. Call the number._

“I’m fine!”

_You’re yelling to yourself alone in the car._

“Shut up!”

_You first._

“I’m fine, ok? End of conversation.”

He snapped on the radio, still blaring a commercial of course, but it was enough to distract him. Another minute, and the car in front of him finally crawled forward enough that he could put the ad behind him. But he couldn’t shake the feeling of it.

He drove home, back to the hotel, and sat on the bed. He watched the shadows gradually move across the plain walls, until it was nearly dark outside. A microwaved meal for dinner, that was becoming the usual. Eaten alone, for maximum sadness points, at the desk, in complete silence.

It was in the shower where he broke down, ten minutes later. He could feel the tears welling up in his eyes, and he leaned his head against the cool tiles in relief.

“Ok,” he muttered. “I’ll call the goddamn number.”

_###_

The next morning was rough. Everything had a washed-out feel to it, from the color of the sky to the faded carpet in his room. Barry’s head felt muggy, and his body was sore. This was becoming the usual routine, and it was getting harder by the day.

He glanced at the phone on the nightstand. It rested there, neither encouraging nor discouraging. He was hoping that it would give him a sign- either a notification would pop up and distract him, or maybe it would reflect one of the meagre sunbeams and become so blindingly bright it had to be the answer. But it sat there, uselessly, as Barry laid there, equally uselessly.

“Fine, dammit.”

After the first ring, he began to panic. _It’s probably some fucking telemarketing scam,_ he guessed. _Someone trying to steal my identity. Well, you’re fucking welcome to it._

A man picked up on the third ring, interrupting his train of thought.

“Hello?”

“Uh, hi.” Barry paused, unsure how this was supposed to go. “I, uh, saw your ad. On Magnolia.”

“Oh! Most excellent. You need help, my friend?” It was a vaguely Eastern European accent Barry couldn’t quite place, and his heart sunk as he realized- this is definitely a sex line thing.

“Uh, well-“

“Very cool!” The enthusiastic voice cut him off. “My name is Hank, and I am the best life coach in the Valley. I actually have room for another client right now, so this is perfect timing for both of us!”

“Life coach?” Barry repeated into the phone. He was very confused.

“Yeah man, life coach! You need support, I give guidance, you live your best life, I make a new friend and a little money. It’s a good system!” He was so exuberant that Barry was getting excited himself. Until he caught the last caveat.

“How much money?”

“$50 a session, six weeks at a time. You get one two hour meeting with me, at any place of your choosing, and then I’m on call for you during the week, whenever you need me. If I have many new clients, sometimes on call takes time, but right now it shouldn’t be a problem.”

$300 for six weeks was nothing. Barry wasn't exactly loaded but he wasn't hurting for money right now. And it didn’t sound like too much trouble, or like a total scam. Worst case scenario, he shows up and this guy just kills him. _Well…_

“You’re wondering if I’m going to kill you, right?” the voice on the line deduced, still sounding upbeat despite accurately assuming he was being mistaken for a murderer.

“No, it’s not that,” Barry lied. “Just thinking about my schedule. So how does this all work?”

“I work around you! Whenever is good for you. Early morning, late night, afternoon, weekend, whenever, buddy! Doesn’t even have to be same time week-to-week. Just need two days’ advance notice.”

This was all sounding too good to be true. Plus the guy on the phone wasn’t even that pushy. Barry was running out of reasons to say no. No matter how this turned out, it had to be better than what he had now.

Right?

“Yeah, ok, Hank. When can we start?”


	2. The First Session

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barry and Hank meet for the first time

They settled on the In-N-Out on Lankershim. It was only about twenty minutes from Barry’s hotel, and there was a nice park across the street, where they could sit down for a bit and figure things out. Plus it was a wide, open, very public space, so Barry could always bail in case Hank turned out to be weird. The days leading up to the meeting, all Barry could think about was how crazy the whole thing seemed. True, his fragile mental state wasn’t improving at all, but it seemed risky to bring in a complete stranger to help him. 

The drive over he kept glancing in the rearview, hoping the confused look in his eyes would convince himself to turn around. He was running out of excuses, and as he pulled into the lot, he knew there was no turning back. But he could wait for a few minutes, afraid to leave the vehicle. _Would a coward do this?_ he reasoned, looking around the parking lot and ducking his head anytime he saw someone look his way. 

Barry sighed. The clock on the console ticked over to 2pm, and he knew he shouldn’t be late. He got out of the car and stretched, hoping to kill a little more time. Until a friendly voice from across the lot interrupted him.

“Barry?”

The oddest looking man was walking his way. _Oh no._  Hank was bald, with a tacky polo shirt covered in a palm tree print, and distractingly big tattoos lining up and down his arms. He was handsome though- Barry was finding that every single person in L.A. was attractive, way more attractive than everyone back in Cleveland. It made him worry a bit for his acting prospects, but in the meantime he was enjoying being surrounded by hot people constantly. But this Hank fellow looked friendly at least, with a big grin on his face and a relaxed, slow stride. He waved to catch Barry’s attention, and Barry nodded vaguely in his direction. 

“Hey! Hank, right?”

“Yeah, man! It’s great to finally meet you!” He had a very enthusiastic handshake, which threatened to turn into a hug for a second before Barry ducked safely out of it. 

“So, uh, what’s the plan?” Barry asked, truly unsure. 

“Are you hungry?” Barry nodded. “Cool. I was thinking we could grab lunch first?”

Barry smiled. “Lead the way.”

——-

Food secured, they found a nice picnic table across the street, and after the first few bites, Hank got right to work. 

“Think of me as a personal trainer, but for your mind. You tell me about what you want to achieve in life, and I help you set manageable goals to get there. In addition to providing moral support, some mental health services, and just overall good vibes and friendship!” Hank spoke slowly and clearly, very determined to make the process as easy as possible. He seemed like a guy happy with his lot in life, and obviously enjoying his work. Barry looked at him enviously. _Why can’t I find something that makes me that happy?_

Hank waited patiently for Barry to respond, and when he didn’t, he kept going. “So, if you want me as your coach, I’ll need to know more about you. What do you do? What would you like to do? Any current hobbies? Girlfriend? Boyfriend?”

Barry hesitated, deciding to only answer the first question. “Well, I just left my job. Selling auto parts.”

Hank nodded. “Very cool. And you’re looking for a new path now?”

“Kind of? I started taking an acting class here- I’m sort of in the process of moving out here. I think I want to become an actor, but I’m not sure.”

“What makes you unsure?” Hank sounded sympathetic, his eyes never leaving Barry’s face. He had an almost creepy intensity about him, and paired it with a laid-back attitude and style. It was an odd combination, but Barry couldn’t deny that Hank was a likeable, charismatic guy. It was too easy to spill all of his doubts and fears out into the open.

“Uh, I’m not sure if I’m any good,” Barry admitted. “I walked into this acting class by accident one day, and it was so open and honest, I found it exhilarating.” He paused to pick at his burger. It was easy to relive all of his problems every night, but it was a different story having to explain this to another person. “I want to keep acting. I guess that’s my goal. To get good enough at acting that I can make that my new job.”

Hank beamed. “Ok, that’s super cool! And something we can build towards easily. But I will be honest- I don’t have much experience helping actors. I don’t know how to get you in SAG-AFTRA or anything.”

“That’s fine,” Barry nodded. _Nobody mentioned that in class. Do I need it? What is it?_

Sipping his strawberry shake, Hank continued. “But I can help you in a lot of other ways. You’re already in an acting class, which is a good start! It shows you’re serious about making that commitment. Another would be moving here. You said you’re trying to move here? Where are you from?”

“Cleveland. Yeah, I came out here for a business thing, and just kinda- stayed, I guess. I’m still living in the hotel.”

“Right, so that is a problem, but it’s easy to fix. You need to settle here permanently, buddy!” Hank clapped him on the arm enthusiastically, and Barry jumped. “I’ll try to give you homework after each session, and we’ll follow up at the start of the next one. So first assignment- look for an apartment.”

He must’ve looked as clueless as he thought, because Hank smiled sympathetically.

“You don’t have to move anywhere today,” he explained patiently. “Just start finding some listings in neighborhoods you’d want to live in. Maybe call a realtor. Small steps. Then in a few weeks, check out some locations. No rush, but become prepared. Figure out what you want, and pivot your life in that direction, so it can all fall into place. You understand?”

Barry nodded. This was all so much easier than he had been expecting, and Hank seemed like a decent guy. _See, you were worried over nothing._

Hank checked his watch quickly. “Ok, few more things and then we go. So six sessions are my minimum, but ideally this should be a long term thing. No one can turn their life around in six weeks. So if you want my help for a while, make a list of more things I can help you fix. It could be anything- I am very versatile.”

 _The PTSD. The depression. The night terrors. The uncontrollable sobbing._ “Yeah, alright,” Barry agreed. “I’ll try to think of some things.”

Hank nodded. “You have my number- call me anytime, if you need anything at all. How this works is, you rely on me at first, and I help you build skills so you can handle a crisis later on.”

“Why is this sounding more and more like a high school class that should’ve prepared me for the real world?”

Hank winked playfully. “Shh, I’ve got a good thing going here. Don’t ruin it for me. Ok, so any more questions?”

Barry shook his head. “No, you were pretty informative. I have to admit, you seem good at this.”

“Thank you!” Hank looked genuinely touched by the compliment. _Maybe his other clients aren’t as nice,_ Barry guessed.

“Ok, I’ve got to run. But this was a great chat, Barry. Call me to set up our meeting for next week, yeah?”

They shook hands again, Hank succeeding in turning it into one of those awkward half hugs, _Fucking Californians_ , and then he was heading to his car, leaving Barry alone at the picnic table.

 _That actually went well._ He still couldn’t quite believe it. And they had only scratched the surface, but Barry felt like maybe this Hank guy could quite possibly help him out.

He collected their lunch garbage and tossed it in the nearest trash can before walking back to his car. He had work to get to- apartment hunting.


	3. The First Breakdown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barry has a panic attack, and calls Hank for help. Barry spends the night at Hank's house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for a panic attack in this chapter

A few days later Barry was spiraling. He was in over his head.

The initial buzz of positivity from his first session had worn off, and he felt more stressed than ever before. Papers littered his hotel room- printouts of real estate listings, cheap free renters magazines, and even newspaper classified sections.

His felt trapped in his room, like the walls were closing in on him. His hands shook slightly as he reached for the phone on the bedside table. He felt bad about having to do this, but he was scared, and didn’t know where else to turn.

“Hello?”

“Hey Hank? It’s Barry.”

“Barry! My friend, how are you today?” Hank’s voice sounded upbeat but tired. Barry then remembered- it’s a Friday night, Hank’s a young guy, he was probably out doing something. But it was too late, he had already called, and couldn’t hold back his problems. 

“I’m- I’m not good. I’m sorry Hank, this is so stupid. I’m looking up apartments like you asked me to, and it’s stressing me out.”

“It’s ok Barry. This can wait on back burner for a day or two if you are too busy.” There was a tinge of worry in his voice that made Barry choke. _He thinks I’m too overworked but really I can’t do one fucking thing._ His breathing sped up, and he found he couldn’t talk.

“Barry? You still there?” 

“Yeah, sorry, I-I just can’t do anything right now.“ It was difficult to form a whole sentence. His head felt dizzy, and suddenly the phone in his hand became the heaviest thing to hold. 

“Do you want me to help you?”

“I don’t-“

“Barry, where are you? I’m coming to help you.” The worry in Hank’s voice was replaced with confidence, and Barry was able to get his address out with minimal trouble. “Good. Stay where you are, I’ll be there in ten.”

It was an interminable ten minutes. About halfway through Barry slid from sitting on the bed to sitting on the floor while leaning against the bed, then finally just lying on the floor. He felt so helpless and lost. His fingers twitched occasionally, but otherwise he was still, his face pressed against the thin carpet.

The knock at the door startled him. It felt like hours had passed and yet no time at all. He dragged himself up and unlocked the door.

Hank’s eyes widened as soon as he saw him. _Shit._ He hadn’t thought it was that bad, but maybe he was starting to look like how he felt inside. 

“Hey.”

Hank blinked. “Jesus, Barry, this isn’t a good look for you. We gotta get you cleaned up. May I come in?” 

Barry stepped back to let him in, noticing the tag sticking out of Hank’s shirt as he crossed the threshold. His shirt was on backwards. Barry shot a quick look at the clock on the nightstand- 12:15. _I made him get out of bed for this._ Another twinge of guilt hit his chest, and Barry had to lean against the wall to keep upright. It felt like a shard of glass stabbing him in the ribs.

Hank didn’t notice at first, being too distracted by the chaos in the room. Papers covered every visible surface, and there were piles of take-out containers overfilling the garbage can in the corner. Dirty laundry covered most of the floor. It just screamed toxic environment. 

“Oh Barry,” he said softly. Another shard in the side. “You should have told me before.” He turned around and saw Barry hunched over by the door, holding his side in obvious pain. He was at his side in a flash. “Are you hurt? Where is the pain?”

Barry just gritted his teeth and shook his head. He couldn’t understand it. He had been in far worse situations before, in literal life-or-death scenarios, and only now were his mind and body deciding to give out on him. 

Hank rested one hand on Barry’s shoulder and the other on his wrist, stealthily taking his pulse. “Just breathe Barry, ok? Just focus on slow, deep breaths, ok?” He phrased everything as a question, giving the impression that Barry was still in control, and Hank was just there to guide him from decision to decision. _Goddamn, he really is one hell of a life coach._

Satisfied with the pulse, Hank leaned back a little, to give Barry space to regulate his breathing. It took a minute or two, but Barry reached the point where he felt stable. He looked back up and met Hank’s eyes, still awash with worry. He gave a shaky smile. There was a weird glint in Hank’s eyes that Barry couldn’t quite place. It was intense but knowing, like with one glance in Barry’s room, he had figured everything out. But the look passed, and Barry finally caught his breath.

Hank looked thoughtful for a moment. “Barry, do you think you will be ok for a ten minute drive?”

“Drive?”

Hank frowned. “I don’t want you alone tonight. And this room seems like a bad environment. Do you mind? I have a guest bedroom you can use.”

Barry hesitated. As grateful as he was, Hank was still basically a stranger. On the other hand, his chest still felt like he was dying. _You don’t really have a choice here._

“Yeah, ok. Let’s go.”

Hank nodded. “Alright. Anything you need for the night, or is it better just to leave everything behind?” He was always so mindful. Barry grabbed his wallet and phone off the nightstand and shrugged, not sure what else he should take.

He was silent the entire ride, just staring at the passing lights through the window. Hank was uncharacteristically quiet as well, not wanting to exacerbate Barry’s fragile condition. It wasn’t long before they pulled up to a small, unassuming house just off of Vanowen. 

“Well, this is me,” Hank announced, looking at Barry cautiously. Barry gave an uneasy smile in reply.

“Thanks for doing this, Hank. Your place looks nice, by the way.”

Hank ignored the attempt at small talk, and led the way in, steering them straight into the kitchen. He got Barry some water and sat him down at the table. “How are you feeling now?”

“I think I’m ok. I don’t really know what came over me earlier.”

Hank looked serious, and cut right to the chase. “Seemed like a panic attack. Barry, I want to help you, but this might be more than I can handle. I need to know more about your problems. Has this happened before?”

He looked down at the mug in his hands. It had a drawing of Garfield wearing sunglasses on it. Hank sensed his apprehension and reached across the table to hold his free hand. Barry still wouldn’t look up.

Hank sighed. “Listen, Barry, I’m not a therapist. I’m under no obligation to report anything, or send you to a hospital. I do have some experience with mental health problems though, and I’m willing to help you as much as I can. But you need to take that first step, and tell me what’s wrong.”

“I haven't really talked about it before. It was after I came back, from Afghanistan.” Barry looked Hank dead in the eyes as he spoke, certain that this is what would drive him away. But Hank just tightened his grip on Barry’s hand in understanding, and gave a sympathetic nod. 

“That’s fine, I don’t need to know specific details. But if you can, tell me about how it made you feel then.”

It had been years since anyone asked how Barry was feeling, and the question made him pause. He was so used to ignoring his problems, it took a while to actually assess how he was. 

“I was good at first,” he started slowly. “It was hard for me, readjusting to life and everything. Took months before I felt ready to get a job or leave the house everyday. Finally wound up as a travelling salesman selling auto parts. Not glamorous but it gave me something to do, and made me feel useful. But like everything else, it got harder to do. My last assignment, I had a job out here. I did it, and then I just froze up. Didn't go home. So now I'm out here and I have nothing.”

Hank squeezed his hand again. “You don’t have nothing. I’m sitting right here, ready to help you. You have your physical health. And you have the desire to get better. Right?”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“And what about your acting class?” Barry looked up. “See? That’s one more thing you have. In the morning, I will sit with you, and we will make a plan for the next few days. I think maybe if we break things down into tiny steps, you will have an easier time navigating the whole week. Does that sound ok?”

Barry nodded while stifling a yawn. Hank noticed it immediately. 

“Ok, but first we need to get you some rest. Are you alright to go to bed by yourself now?”

“Uh, yeah.”

Hank beamed, making Barry feel like he had accomplished something important. “Good, that’s a good start. I’ll show you the way.”

He led them down the narrow hallway stretching into the back of the house. The guest bedroom was small, with half the space occupied by exercise equipment. But there was a nice looking bed, with a dated, tacky quilt that looked like Hank’s grandmother had made it. 

“The bathroom is the door to your left. My room is across and on the right. Just shout if you need me, I’m a very light sleeper.” That weird glint shone in Hank’s eyes again as he pointed to the open door, but only for a moment. “There’s extra toothbrushes in the medicine cabinet, and the closet should have some clothes you can sleep in. Can I get you anything else? More water?” Hank nodded at the empty mug in Barry’s hand.

“Oh, no, I’m fine. I forgot I was carrying this.”

“I’ll take it back to the kitchen. Remember- just ask if you need anything, ok? Good night Barry!” Hank took his ridiculous mug and headed back down the hallway, leaving Barry alone with his thoughts again. 

_Well, this isn’t too bad._

“Are you kidding me?” he whispered to himself. “This is bad. This is fucking bad. I had to get rescued by a guy I met a week ago.”

_But you needed the help. And he obviously seems like he wants to help you. Yeah, alright, it’s awkward right now, but deep down you know this is the best thing that could’ve happened._

He was about to refute, but could hear the Hank’s footsteps returning and didn’t want to be caught talking to himself. He ducked into the bathroom instead, and leaned over the sink. Splashing his face a bit, he left the water running while he looked at his reflection. _Oh._ That was why Hank had looked so scared. Barry was still white as a ghost, with big dark circles around his bloodshot eyes making it very evident he hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in days. And this was after he had calmed down- _I must’ve looked even worse earlier._ He found a fresh toothbrush and ripped it out of the packaging, and stole a bit of the toothpaste on the counter. 

He gave the medicine cabinet a once-over as he brushed, but didn’t find anything out of the ordinary. He probably should’ve checked over the whole house after agreeing to spend the night, but he was too tired. Plus he couldn’t think of a good excuse if he got caught. _Yeah, I just really wanted to check out that hot tub. At three am. In ninety degree weather._

He rinsed his mouth, and headed back to the guest room. Hank’s door down the hall was shut, meaning he must have gone to bed. Barry didn’t know why he was hoping to see Hank again, but he did. _At least we’ll have tomorrow together_ , he thought. 

He shut the door to the room, and opened the sliding closet door. It was full of boxes, mostly paperwork, along with a dumbbell rack and more exercise debris. Some t-shirts and hoodies hung on hangers, and there was a small, cheap-looking dresser in the corner full of shorts and sweatpants. Barry found the largest pair he could find, and threw on a very faded, stretched-out white t-shirt, but it was still a tight fit. Hank wasn’t exactly a small guy, but Barry was still carrying all the muscle from his Marine days. Too tired to hunt for anything better, Barry turned back to the bed and slipped in. The mattress was impossibly soft, and the blanket smelled fresh and clean. He was asleep in minutes.


	4. The First Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barry wakes up at Hank's house, and together they come up with a plan for Barry's future

The smell of pancakes was what tipped Barry off that this was not a typical morning. But he was still too tired to investigate properly, and burrowed deeper into the soft blankets. _Maybe it’s just the Denny’s next door. All of these hotels are always right next to a Denny’s._ The sun filtered through the blinds, making the room too bright, and Barry rolled over in annoyance. He opened his eyes a crack and didn’t recognize the room. His solid, wooden nightstand wasn’t there. Instead his phone and wallet were resting on a round glass table, next to a book with Cyrillic letters on the spine. 

Barry sat up, confused, until he heard the singing. Coming from somewhere outside his room, a man with an unplaceable accent was singing a Britney Spears song. _Hank._ Last night came flooding back to him, and Barry winced in embarrassment. _Yep. You really had a panic attack. You called your life coach for help. You see how badly you need help now, right?_

“Shut up.”

He got up, stretching. He thought about getting dressed first, but his stomach rumbled, and he decided to check out the delicious smell radiating from the kitchen. 

“Barry! Good morning! How are you feeling today?” Hank heard him coming, and was waiting for him, a smile on his face. He was wearing a goofy looking apron with fluffy little dogs on it, and had a mug of coffee in his hand-this one also had Garfield, but he was riding a skateboard. 

“Pretty good, actually,” Barry confessed. “That was my first solid sleep in like, a week.”

“Good, good. Can I get you something to drink? Coffee, juice, tea, iced tea, iced coffee?” He bent over to see what he had in the fridge, and Barry did his best to not check out his ass. It was tough. Hank looked like he did squats.

“Uhh, maybe water, please?”

“Good choice,” Hank approved as he fetched a Brita pitcher and a fresh new mug (Garfield talking on an 80’s cell phone), while Barry sat down at the kitchen table again, next to a plate of diced fruit. “Caffeine is probably bad for your system after yesterday.” He grabbed his own mug and joined Barry at the table.

“So,” he started casually, “did you have any plans today?”

Barry shook his head. “Acting class is only on weekdays. I don’t do much on weekends.”

“Good, good,” Hank repeated. “We should probably get to work, but I don’t want to rush you. The important thing about getting your life on track is going at your own pace. Many people fail or relapse because they think they have to get better right now, when you only have to get ok right now. Better will come eventually.”

Barry took all this in, looking around the kitchen. It looked a lot different in the light of day. Tidy, and obviously lived-in, but felt clean and organized. It was bright and sunny, with notes all over the fridge and pinned to a bulletin board on the wall. It wasn’t exactly the perfect, typical suburban home, but it was pretty damn close.

“How did you get to where you are now?” Barry asked, genuinely curious. Hank’s life now seemed kind of similar to how Barry wanted to live, one day.

“Mostly networking, and a little luck. I was in a bad work place like you, and I decided to do my own thing. And it’s been great so far! Meeting lots of super cool people and helping them achieve their dreams. Can’t ask for more than that.”

“Nice,” Barry agreed, not really sure what to say. He was starting to feel a bit awkward now. Hank was clearly the nicest person he’d ever met, and he was acutely aware of just how much he was beginning to owe the man. He grabbed a handful of grapes for the sake of having something to do.

“Are you hungry?” Hank asked, changing the subject. “I’ve got pancakes started, but there’s eggs and bacon if you prefer. And there’s toast. Oh, I guess I could do French toast too, so that’s an option now.”  


“Uhh, pancakes are fine, thanks.”

“Cool,” Hank agreed, getting up from the table and heading back to the oven. “What do you normally eat for breakfast these days?”

“Lately, nothing,” Barry admitted. “Leftovers if I’ve got them. Maybe stopping for a breakfast sandwich on the way, if I’m late for class.”

Hank was still at the oven, his back to Barry, but from his posture Barry could tell he wasn’t impressed. “That’s not good for you,” he called back. “An important part of turning your life around is proper nutrition. Home cooked meals, Barry.”

“Why is everything an important part of fixing my life?”

Hank turned back, smiling. “It’s all a process. Very intertwined. Lots of really small things, but they’re all super important, ok?” He flipped a pancake without looking and Barry watched it turn over in the air.

“Holy shit.”

“Two months from now, this should be you,” Hank declared. He plated three pancakes and brought them over to Barry. “Forgive me if I’m overstepping, but you need a good breakfast everyday. So, I’m thinking, you should come here. Eat breakfast with me. Whenever you can, it doesn’t have to be every day if you’re not able. But this way I can be sure you’re eating healthy, and maybe check on your mind state as well.”

Barry had snuck two bites while Hank was still talking, and was completely convinced. _Agree to whatever it is, right now, as long as you can keep eating this food._ “I mean, if that’s not a total imposition on you, yeah, sure. These are fucking amazing pancakes, by the way.”

“Thanks,” Hank deflected modestly. “Found the recipe online. Can you taste the nutmeg?” His eyes widened. “Wait, do you have any allergies?”

###

They spent most of the morning at the kitchen table. Barry ate seconds, and then they got to down work, plotting out a strategy for the next few weeks. 

“I really think breaking it down like this is best for you,” Hank explained. “You need commitment, but we need to take it slowly. Start working toward your long-term plans of moving here and becoming an actor, but break everything down into what you need to do day by day. Nothing too overwhelming. Like, tomorrow for instance. Wake up, come here for breakfast. We’ll go over your plan then, so you don’t have to worry about that now.”

“So what do I do for the rest of today?” Barry asked, a hint of worry in his voice. Everything so far had been pleasant and productive, and he knew the second he was left alone with his thoughts again, he would fall right back into despair.  


Hank looked thoughtful. “What do you need to do before tomorrow’s breakfast?”

“Uhh, nothing?”

“Do you have food for lunch and dinner tonight? Do you need to pick up more toothpaste? Is your laundry done? Make a list of everything that should be done today.” He got up and fetched a notepad and pen from the clutter on top of the fridge, before drawing a few lines down. “Ok, so on the left side write down what you think you need to do right now.”

Barry thought hard about what should be done. He actually hadn’t done his laundry in a couple of weeks, but was hoping no one would notice. He wrote down groceries and laundry on the paper, but couldn’t think of a third thing. 

“Hmm, good. OK, now on the right side, write down anything you want to do. You’re still new to L.A. right? Any places you want to visit? For some people, they might want to stay in, because going out exhausts them more, but for you, I think maybe time away from your hotel is the better plan.” He nodded as Barry scribbled down some more. “Excellent. Now circle one on each side. Whichever feels more important right now. I’d suggest groceries, but that’s just me.”

“Ok?” Barry circled it on the paper, unsure of where this was going. 

“Great!” Hank beamed. “Now, that’s all you will do today. Below ‘groceries’, write down exactly what you need to pick up today. Make it sort of like a checklist so you don’t have to think later, just follow your own instructions. And do the same on the right. You wrote Santa Monica Pier? Good choice! Write down what exactly you’d like to see there.”

“And that’s it?”

Hank nodded, smile fading a bit at the unease in Barry’s voice. “Yeah, man. It’s super simple. If you’re still unsure, I can tag along with you today, maybe, to get you started?”

Barry let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding. “Honestly, yeah, that would be great.”


	5. The First Success

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some of the mornings Hank and Barry spend together

The next five weeks were a bit of a whirlwind for Barry. Spending so much time with Hank was exhilarating, and his advice was really improving the little things in Barry’s life. The sky didn’t have a washed-out feeling anymore, getting out of bed wasn’t a twenty minute ordeal, and Barry was starting to feel better, inside and out. He wouldn’t say he was healthy, just yet, but he was starting to feel like he could pass as a regular guy. 

He stopped by Hank’s house nearly every morning around 9, and they would plan Barry’s day over breakfast. Nothing strenuous, usually just ‘go to acting class’, or ‘check out this open house down on Franklin, it looks really promising’. Barry felt a little guilty, monopolizing Hank’s time like this.

“You’re sure it’s fine me coming by for breakfast everyday?” he asked one morning when Hank looked a little worse for wear.

“Totally!” came the cheery reply from the stove. “Since you don’t have a drinking problem, I’ll just admit I’m very hungover today.”

Barry laughed as he poured coffee for both of them (Garfield rollerblading and Garfield and Odie playing laser tag). “I thought you were this super responsible life coach type guy.”

Hank waved a spatula at Barry in defence. “Hey now, it was my night off. I can have a little fun.”

“Hey man, I’m just teasing,” Barry apologized as he brought Hank the coffee. Their fingers brushed as Hank took the mug.

“I know. It’s good to hear to you laugh,” Hank explained. 

###

“Glendale?” Hank made a face, pausing as he reached for the pepper.

“What’s wrong with Glendale?” Barry asked, looking up from his phone.

“Well nothing, if you want to live in Glendale.”

“Based off of your face, I’ll guess that’s a bad thing.”

“No! I mean, you can check it out if you want.” Hank picked up his fork, and paused. “But it is Glendale.”

Barry scowled, swiping his screen. “I’m already throwing it out.”

Hank laughed, and Barry’s heart soared. After only being a source of worry, he took great pleasure in being able to make Hank laugh too. 

###

“I think I found the one,” he said by way of greeting, as he entered the front door like he owned the place. “It’s close by in Van Nuys, and it’s an AirBnB that runs month to month. It’s commitment, but not long term, in case something happens, and I need to back out.”

Hank beamed, looking up from the calendar on his counter. “That sounds perfect for you! Have you gone to check it out yet?”

“Not yet. I’ve got an appointment this afternoon though. I’m kind of excited about it?”

Hank clapped him on the shoulder. “You should be! This was all you, Barry! I knew you could do it!”

###

“Barry! Come on in! Eggs will be done in five minutes. How are we feeling today?” Hank greeted, informed, and inquired, in that order, as they walked to the kitchen.

“Uh, pretty good actually. Class went really well last night, and Gene, my teacher, said I could have a lead in our next showcase in a few weeks.”

“Really?” Hank sounded impressed  
.  
“Yeah, I think it’s a monologue from **Network** , I’m not 100% sure yet. It’s a political themed night, right before the primaries,” Barry explained. “But it’s still really good. It means they believe in me, I guess. That I could act, in front of a real audience.”

“Oh Barry, I’m so happy for you, here, let me hug you.”

“Uh, wait-“ Hank cut him off by taking him in his strong arms.

The hugged for a minute. Hank rubbed his hands on Barry’s muscular back in a soothing circular pattern, and Barry relaxed into the touch immediately.

“You’ve done a really good job here Barry. I’m so proud of you.” Barry blushed a little at the words, but thankfully Hank couldn’t see. “I really care about you,” he went on, “and I’m so happy to see you doing better.”

When they pulled away, Barry saw an expression he’d never seen on Hank’s face before- embarrassment. Like he had said too much.

“Well, everything I’ve achieved, it’s all because of you and your help,” Barry admitted, trying to defuse the tension. “I literally could not have a done a thing without you.”

Hank just smiled, a little awkwardly but wholeheartedly. “It’s my pleasure, Barry. Really, I-“

The timer went off on the counter, interrupting him. “Oh! The eggs are done.” Hank went over to the stove to finish breakfast, and Barry sat down at his usual seat at the table, watching his host with admiration.


	6. The First Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After hanging out with his acting class friends, Barry bumps into Hank, and takes him back to his new place

Drinks after the showcase were a fine idea. Going to a different bar after Sally said she heard about this new place on Sunset was also a decent idea. Winding up in Silver Lake after 1 am because Nick thought he knew the bartender at this trendy place was where it all started to fall apart. 

Barry had offered to drive everyone, because he felt he should be sober for a while. Not that he’d ever really had a problem with drinking or anything before, but still. It felt like the thing to do when getting your life back on track. Everyone was too grateful to object, but after the fourth bar, herding the drunken acting class back into his car was beginning to become tiresome. They kept trying to split up or run off, and Natalie was dangerously close to throwing up in the backseat. 

He’d managed to drop half of them off earlier- the lightweights knowing when to throw in the towel, and now he was left with the stragglers. Nick was arguing with the bouncer while Barry waited next to the car, keeping an eye on Eric sleeping in the backseat. He looked around, killing time, knowing Nick’s rejected ass was going to come slinking back to the car in shame any moment, when he spotted him. 

_Hank._ He was over by a side exit, leaning against the wall and smoking with a couple of guys. Always stylish, he looked very trendy in a leather jacket and with a cigarette in his hands. He threw his head back in laughter, somehow even more carefree than he was when Barry was around. _Probably easier off the clock, not having to worry if the guy in front of you is going to fall apart over breakfast._

Staring for far too long, Hank finally noticed him. “Hey, Barry!” He gave a quick wave, and jogged over. He smelled different, like he was wearing an expensive cologne. Barry breathed in deeply, before waving back, a little awkwardly. 

“Hey Hank, how’s a going?”

“Good, man. Are you having a guys’ night?” He nodded at Eric sleeping in the car, a quizzical look on his face. 

“No, a bunch of us from the acting class wanted to get drinks tonight. I’m the DD,” Barry explained. “It’s getting sloppy though. Almost time to pack it in.”

Hank checked his watch, a flashy gold piece Barry had never seen before. “It’s not that late.”

“Yeah, but you know actors. They have to be dramatic about it.” He pointed at Nick gesticulating wildly to the bouncer, and Hank laughed.

 _He looks good when he laughs._ Hank looked at him weirdly. _Oh fuck, did I say that out loud?_

“You did,” Hank chuckled again. 

“Ohh, fuck,” Barry said, feeling his face get red. “Oh no-“

“Hey man, it’s ok.” Hank tried patting Barry on the arm just as Barry lifted it to cover his face, so Hank wound up caressing Barry’s wrist. Both men paused for a minute, their eyes meeting. 

Nick picked the worst moment to come reeling back, grumbling about how they switched bouncers, and this guy wouldn’t let them in. Barry barely registered him, his eyes not leaving Hank. “That sucks man, maybe we should call it a night.”

“Yeah, alright,” Nick agreed, heading towards the backseat. “Hey, who’s the bald guy?”

“I’m Hank, Barry’s friend,” he introduced smoothly. “He’s also giving me a ride home. Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Nick slurred as he struggled to buckle his seatbelt. 

###

Barry drove carefully, with Hank next to him making polite small talk. Both the occupants in the backseat seemed out of it anyway. He got them dropped off with minimal fuss- five minutes searching for lost keys, and five minutes buzzing an unresponsive roommate to come down and help carry Eric in, but it felt like an eternity know that Hank was waiting for him in the car.

Now alone, the mood in the car changed. It felt like they were about to take a precipitous step, and even though deep down Barry had been wanting to from the start, it still felt awkward. The tension was palpable and they didn’t talk much, until Barry pulled over. 

“Well, this is me,” he said.

“Looks nice,” Hank appraised, getting out of the car. Barry had forgotten he hadn’t invited Hank over to check out his new place yet. 

_Well, now’s a good a time as any._ He caught up to Hank to the steps, and they shared a small look. _Well, maybe now isn’t a good time for the grand tour._

They were kissing as soon as Barry got the door unlocked. Hank was pushing him over the threshold, and they backed into the nearest wall. He kissed Barry quick and hard, like he was afraid he was going to be pushed away any second now. But Barry gripped him tighter, and flipped them so Hank was now against the wall.

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” he rasped as they pulled apart for air, before diving right back in. Barry kept one hand on Hank’s bicep as the other began to roam his chest. He felt the racing pulse as he undid the top two buttons on the shirt.

At the brief skin-on-skin contact, Hank breathed in deeply, and dropped both hands to Barry’s ass. Taking that as a sign of encouragement, Barry undid another button, and leaned down to start kissing Hank’s neck. He made a slow path down Hank’s chest, stopping to kiss every tattoo he didn’t recognize. When he dropped to his knees, Hank put his hands on Barry’s shoulders and pushed him back a little, a worried look on his face. “Are you sure?”

“Please?” Barry begged. “I really want to do this.” He’d thought about this a lot recently. How it would go when he finally got up the courage to tell Hank how he felt. All the things left unsaid, all the lingering looks over breakfast.

“I don’t want to do something you’ll regret,” Hank explained, a serious look in his eyes. “This feels like an ethical no-no.”

“Hank, please,” Barry begged. “I’ve wanted to do this for weeks now. If you really don’t want me to, I’ll stop, but I wish you’d say yes.”

Hank closed his eyes for a second, a pained expression on his face. “You don’t feel pressured? You don’t feel like you have to do this? Or that you owe me?”

“No, this is my choice.”

Hank pulled him back up and engulfed him in a kiss, bodies pressed together as tight as possible. Hank clung to Barry like he was afraid to let go. They stayed like that for a few minutes, both just clutching each other as Hank kissed Barry like he’d been waiting just as long. They didn’t want to pull apart but in the end their lungs won out.

“Which way to the bedroom?” Hank asked breathlessly.

Barry pointed the way, and they made their way down the messy hall. Barry hadn’t finished unpacking yet, so he flipped on the lights so they wouldn’t walk into the assorted boxes he had lying around.

As soon as they entered the small room, Hank took Barry’s hand and pulled him close, holding him tenderly, before spinning him toward the bed. The backs of his legs hit the mattress and he tumbled down. Hank was on him in a flash, kissing him passionately, while one hand slipped to the buttons on his shirt. _He must be some kind of expert_ Barry idly noted, as Hank was lifting him to remove the shirt only seconds later.

His chest newly exposed, Hank moved his attention lower, lavishing Barry’s body with kisses and small bites. Barry strained to see if he was leaving any marks, but Hank just gave him a cryptic look before pushing his shoulders back down into the bed.

“No peeking!” He admonished, leaning back up to peck Barry on the lips.

“Why not?” Barry whined.

“Because I’m not done yet.” Hank darted in to leave a hickey on Barry’s neck, and he yelped in surprise. “It has taken far too much willpower not to do this every time we meet.”

“If you did that every morning at breakfast, my neck would be nothing but hickeys.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” Hank grinned, moving in to kiss Barry yet again. They made out languidly, Hank seeming in no hurry to take things further yet, despite the obvious erection Barry could feel pressed against his leg. _Don’t complain. This is everything you’ve wanted for weeks._

Eventually, Hank sat up so they could take off their pants. He eyed Barry’s body hungrily, but remained a respectful arm’s length away on the bed.

_Well, now what?_

“Uh, so how do you want to do this?” Barry asked nervously.

“Do you have condoms or lube or anything?”

Barry shook his head, gesturing to the pile of boxes. “No. Even if I did, I wouldn’t be able to find it.”

Hank nodded. “That’s fine. Do you mind if I just blow you then? Not to brag or anything, but I’m pretty good at it.”

Barry choked for a second, unable to respond. Hank was clearly waiting for an answer though, politely keeping his distance in case it was no.

“Yes, please,” Barry finally got out, pulling Hank over to him.


	7. The Last Session

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank and Barry wake up together, and decide where to go from here

The morning came far too quickly, on Barry’s opinion. The bright sunshine filtering in through the cheap blinds he had yet to replace were a major nuisance, and he was about to complain until he opened his eyes.

It wasn’t that he had forgotten exactly, but more that he thought he had dreamed everything. He could hardly believe that he had Hank in his bed, let alone waking up with him, watching him with a fond look that bordered on devotion.

“Morning Barry,” he said softly, like he was afraid to startle him.

“Uh, morning,” Barry replied, sounding confused. “You stayed. With me.”

“Of course I did. I wasn’t going to leave you.” A look of misunderstanding splashed on Hank’s face. “Unless you didn’t want me to stay?”

“No! God no, this is, this is more than I could’ve hoped for. I’m just kind of surprised it happened.”

Hank smiled sadly. “We’re gonna work on your self-confidence next. You’re a catch, Barry. Deal with it.”

Barry stretched out, yawning. “Sorry, but the only thing on my list today is dealing with a shower.” He raised his eyebrows suggestively. “Want to join me?”

“Lead the way,” Hank said, smiling. 

###

 

Barry was just stepping out of the shower when he heard Hank call out to him.

“Breakfast is ready whenever you are.”

“Thanks! Just be another minute,” he called back. He caught a glimpse of himself in the small part of the mirror that hadn’t fogged over. He looked different. The lines around his eyes seemed less pronounced and his skin looked less gray. _Healthier, maybe. Happier, even._

He quickly shaved and threw his pyjamas back on to join Hank in the kitchen. His new place was decently furnished, and Hank was sitting at the island, eating a muffin.

“Did you bake muffins?” Barry asked incredulously. “How long was I in there?”

Hank waved his phone as an explanation. “Postmates,” he finally said after chewing. “You have like, no food in your fridge.”

“Oh shit, yeah, I’ve been meaning to go shopping,” Barry mumbled apologetically, before realizing. “That’s cheating though! I thought you said home-cooked breakfasts were ‘important to my recovery process.’”

Hank had the decency to look guilty behind his muffin. “Honestly, I was looking for an excuse to spend more time with you. Wait!” Barry was about to interrupt but Hank yelled over him. “Proper nutrition is important. You were not eating well, and that was affecting your mindset. But fundamentally? There’s no difference between eating at my place and grabbing a gas station banana.”

“Well, there’s a little difference,” Barry teased. “The gas station attendant wasn’t looking to spend more time with me every day.”

“You don’t know that for sure. Now c’mon, eat something. S’good,” Hank proclaimed. “Not as good as mine would’ve been, but you know. In a pinch.”

“Show off,” Barry said, reaching for a muffin. They leaned on the counter tops, half-dressed, still-tired. There was a slight undercurrent of tension Barry could feel, but as they ate and laughed, he tried to shake it off.

 _Maybe I’m always going to feel nervous,_ he considered. _Maybe no matter how hard we try, I’m never going to be ok again._

“You ok, buddy?” Hank looked full of concern, and Barry realized he had tuned fully out of the conversation for minutes now.

“Am I going to be ok?” He said it plainly while toying with the muffin wrapper on the counter. “This morning was perfect. Last night was beyond incredible. I love being around you. You just admitted you’ve been trying to spend more time with me. And I still feel bad inside, like maybe I don’t deserve this, and someone’s gonna come and take it away from me.

Hank rushed over to Barry and wrapped his strong arms around him. “Barry, Barry, slow down. It’s called a recovery process, ok? It takes time. And yes, some people will always have lingering issues. But with a good support system, anything is manageable.”

“I don’t have a support system,” Barry mumbled into his shoulder.

“Those drunks in your backseat last night seemed pretty helpful,” Hank countered. “And I’m standing right here, trying to help you.”

“Yeah, but you have to. Isn’t that what I’m paying you for?”

Hank stiffened for a second before letting Barry go. “Yeah, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that.”

_Fuck._

“Fuck,” Barry said.

“No, no, not fuck,” Hank hurried to explain. “Barry, I care about you more than a life coach should. Literally the first rule of life coaching is ‘don’t sleep with your clients’, and well, it’s a little late for that.”

“So, what’s the plan?”

“Basically the same as before, but with more of this,” Hank kissed Barry softly. “We can still have breakfast together every day. I still want to help you plan your days. But I’m thinking maybe we can spend more nights together too?”

Barry blushed. He wasn’t used to seeing Hank act so bashful, and it was comforting, seeing his now-former coach also deal with nerves.  
“Hmm,” he said, pretending to consider it. “Why don’t we take it one night at a time?” He ignored Hank playfully hitting his arm as he leaned in to kiss him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been writing this for the last six weeks, and wound up totally redoing the ending, so if it seemed rushed, well, it was. I'm sorry, I just, it wasn't coming out right but I was waaaay too committed to this idea


End file.
